


Newsies One-Shots

by bearcantwrite



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: (sorta? idk if id call it that), Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety, Blood, Brotherly Love, Comfort, Confessions, Crying, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, One-Shot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Riding, Self-Hatred, Smut, Teasing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-16 22:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13645806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearcantwrite/pseuds/bearcantwrite
Summary: One-shot requests I got on tumblr, decided to post them!





	1. Introduction

Welcome to the one-shots I get requests for tumblr whenever I reblog prompts. Enjoy.


	2. On The Loose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack seems more "off" today than usual. Later that night, Davey understands how "off" Jack can get when set off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suggested by anon on tumblr: "Is it possible to combine javid 24+41?"  
> 24 + 41: "You're trembling." "I feel like I can't breathe."

Jack seemed off today.

From the moment Jack headed down to the lodging house where newsies prepared for the day, everybody was as off as he was. Jack’s eyes were glued to the floor and his brows were scrunched together in some indescribable emotion. Jack didn’t give as many greetings as he normally would today, in fact he was completely silent. He didn’t laugh at Race’s jokes - if anything he downright ignored them - which confused the cigar-carrying newsboy. The newsies tried to ask Crutchie, but he just shrugged and looked at his best friend with worry in his eyes. Jack was way less tactile today. Elmer, for example, attempted to greet him this morning with a pat on the back, only for Jack to flinch and dart away faster than one could say “papes”. Even Wiesel was worried when Jack simply slammed a coin onto the table with no sarcastic or witty one-liner, grabbed his papers and moved along.

Nobody was as observant as Davey, though.

Davey always liked to say that his number one talent was observing. Okay, well, his number one talent was worrying, but observing was a close second. Davey observed his lover all morning, every little movement he made and every little expression his face made. Davey observed the way Jack grabbed the papers a little more hastily than the others and ran to sit at a cart by himself. Davey observed how Jack’s eyes danced over the newspaper, gradually widening and and filling with pure, unadulterated fear. Jack put his hand over his mouth and let the newspaper drop to the ground, frozen, zoning out from the world around him - Davey had called his name three times, but Jack didn’t even blink an eye. Davey observed how Race made the first move, bouncing over and gently grabbing his shoulder. “’ey, Jack.”

Jack jumped up and reared back, but let his arm fall to the ground when he recognized the blonde boy. “Hey, Race.”

“Jack, you doin’ okay? You’ve been actin’ all off ‘n everyone’s worried.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’s lyin’, Jack, I can tell.” Race’s eyes softened with worry. “If you’s ever needin’ to talk, I’m right’ere.”

Jack shook his head quickly, “No, no no, I’m fine, Racer. Just go.” Race frowned and didn’t say anything else, he simply turned to go talk to Romeo, cuing Davey to walk over. Jack saw Davey and put on a smile, “Hey, Dave.”

“Jack, what’s wrong?” Davey spoke gently, searching for any kind of describable emotion in Jack’s emerald-jade eyes.

“Nothin’.”

“Jack-”

“Why’s everyone so obsessed wit’how I’m feelin’?” Jack quickly grabbed the paper off the ground and fumbled to put it in his satchel, only to have it be grabbed from Davey.

“Why’re you so worried with what’s in the headline?” Davey sighed, but noticed Jack’s hands reaching for the paper. “You’re trembling.” Jack opened his mouth to protest, but suddenly flinched at Davey taking his hand. “What happened, Jackie?”

“I..” Jack gulped and trembled harder. “Look at the headline.”

Davey, the newspaper still in hand, opened the paper and searched for any source of worry when his heart suddenly stopped at a headline printed in bold letters. **Wanted Criminal Snyder On The Run.**

———-

It was the end of the day, Jack had gone somewhat back to normal. Their work day had ended, but Jack had convinced Davey to stay behind for the sole purpose of flirting. But when Jack felt Davey’s hand grip his shoulder a little too hard, he was immediately taking off. Memories flooded through his mind of Snyder grabbing him, cuffing him, dragging him to the dreaded place Jack didn’t even want to think about. Anxiety fueled Jack’s legs to run faster than he’s ever had, all that was on his mind was Snyder. Jack didn’t know what he yelled when he felt someone take his hand, but he pulled away and ran even faster until his legs brought him to the skyline.

“Slow down..slow down, Jack…” Davey’s out-of-breath filled Jack’s hearing, looking around. “Jack, it’s just me, I- …Jack?”

Jack was sent over the edge. Jack’s chest was tight and he was darting his head left and right as if he were looking for someone to pop out at him. He breathed sharply and quickly with sobs ripping from his chest. He mumbled inaudible sentences as tears streamed from his terrified, green eyes, he gripped the railing of the skyline with his heavily trembling body.

Davey’s heart tore in two at the sight of his boyfriend. “Jack,” he said and quickly walked over. “Jack, Jack, Jackie.” He tapped on his arm to watch Jack whirl around and gaze at him. “Honeybun, can you hear me…?”

Jack nodded and stared at the ground, gasping repeatedly as he crouched to the ground, his legs unable to carry him. “I-I can’t-” Jack hiccuped. “I can’t- I feel like- I-I can’t breathe.”

Davey sat down next to him and rested his arm around him, frowning at the boy flinching. “Hey, shhh,” he cooed the soothing noise into his ear. “Jackie, shhh. It’s me, it’s just your Davey. He can’t hurt you anymore, he can’t get us from up here. You’re okay now, honeybun. It’s okay. Jackie, I want you to take a deep breath for me.” Jack tried to protest, but all that left him was another sharp gasp and more quiet crying. “Just a deep breath, Jackie, take it easy.” Davey kept cooing gently and felt Jack relax against the arm around his shoulders. Davey gave a soft gasp at feeling Jack gripping to him and slowly pulled off Jack’s gray cap to comb through fluffy, brown hair with his fingers. Jack melted against Davey’s chest and finally, finally took a deep breath. Then another. Then another. “That’s it.” Davey encouraged him and wrapped his arms around Jack, rocking the two of them slightly. “I ain’t gonna let him get his hands on you ever again.”

“D-Davey..” Jack panted quietly and sighed at Davey’s hands cupping his cheeks and wiping his eyes with his thumbs. “I-I didn’t mean to get all…”

Davey reassured all his worries with their lips meeting, gentle, tender. “It’s okay.” That was the final sentence said that night, they felt no need for words otherwise. Just Davey gently touching and kissing Jack until the drained leader of the newsboy union had passed out against his boyfriend. Davey slowly leaned back on the skyline so they were laying down, simply just gazing up at the night sky with a boy against his chest. Davey should have considered it peaceful, but with the fact about the headline making Jack this jumpy and even just touching him a certain way being able to set him off, Davey sighed and simply placed a kiss in Jack’s hair. He wasn’t sure how he could help Jack, or if there even _was_ a way to help Jack, but he made a mental note to not get Jack’s attention so suddenly, at least until Snyder was caught again.


	3. One Too Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Manhattan newsies celebrate the strike with alcohol. Spot has joined them, unfortunately the target for one hammered, blonde newsie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suggested by anon on tumblr: "SPRACE 23 AND 43 BLEASE"  
> "We have to be quiet." "Are you drunk?"

The strike had ended, and everyone was rioting in pure joy. The lodging house was filled with partying newsies, thanks to a certain Racetrack that busted in with cases full of alcohol. Beer, liquor, the works. So naturally, everybody was hammered - except Davey, he was the one making sure nobody jumped out the window in drunk excitement. Spot Conlon, the leader of the Brooklyn newsies, was at the lodging house. He was buzzed, no doubt, but nobody compared to the tall, blonde, blue-eyed newsboy that stumbled over and draped his arms around his neck, cooing in his ear. “Hey Spottiieeeeeeee~.”

Spot’s eyes widened when he heard cooing and looked up to see who was pressing against him. “Race?” He asked, their faces close. “S’up with you?”

Race giggled, “Nothin’~” he traced a hand across Spot’s cheek and let out soft purrs. A small hiccup escaped his lips before he nearly dropped to the ground, had it not been for Spot grabbing him by his waist. Race gasped out and looped his arms around Spot, smirking, “Ye’h, Spottie, keep your hands right there~.”

“Race,” Spot’s nose wrinkled slightly from the smell of beer coming off Race’s breath. “Are you drunk?”

“No!” replied the taller boy, only for him to pause. “Maybe a little bit.”

“Maybe you should get some-”

“And miss out on my chance to talk to the hottest boy in the wo’y’ld?”

Spot’s cheeks flushed a soft red as he looked into Race’s eyes. Drunk or sober, Race’s eyes were a clear, sapphire blue that drew him in closer. “I..thank ya.” He couldn’t help a snicker. “Man, you’s gonna be dead in the mornin’.”

“Who cares ‘bout what’s happ’nin’ tomorrow?” Race leaned in closer and his purrs grew louder. “I’d rather think ‘bout what I’m hopin’ for tonight…~” Spot knew it probably wasn’t right. Spot knew shit could go down in the snap of one’s fingers. As he slowly moved his hands away, Race whined and moved them back to his waist. “Ah-ah, Spottie, I said keep ‘em..” Spot was giving in, and giving in fast. Maybe it was just the alcohol going to his brain, but Race was more cute than usual. Then again, when was Race not cute? Race was the prettiest boy Spot had ever laid eyes on, he’s accepted that, but Spot never expected to make the boy moan. As he found himself rubbing circles into Race’s waist, Race cooed out, “Oooh, Spot~ There ya go, baby. Keep touchin’ me right there.”

Spot was kissing Race, next thing he knew. Their lips had met in a drunken mess, but neither of them cared. Race snuck his hand into Spot’s and dragged him to the bathrooms, closing the door and guiding Spot against it. “Race, I..” Spot gasped when he felt Race wrap practically his whole body around the shorter boy and sloppily kiss at his neck. “Ohmygod, this is crazy, I-I can’t belie-”

“Shhh~” Race silenced him with another kiss. His kisses moved lower down his neck, speaking between odd intervals. “You just let me do the wo’y’k, k’ay, hottie~?”

Spot was about to ask what he meant when his jaw dropped in a moan. He gazed down to see Race crouched down now and leaving opened mouth kisses right on his crotch, gently sucking on the fabric of Spot’s jeans and looking up with hazy blue eyes. One hand traveled to knock off a cap and tangle itself within chestnut-blonde curls. Race gave a soft huff when Spot kept giving loud moans at the new feeling. “Spottie, we gotta be quiet,” slurred the taller boy. He went back to business and focused on undoing Spot’s fly, smirking upon knowing this was driving the shorter boy crazy. He eagerly reached inside Spot’s boxers and gave a soft gasp at feeling his hardon. “You’re already gettin’ so excited~” Race giggled out, letting Spot’s trembling legs give in as he watched the shorter boy sink to the floor, now at eye level. Race pushed their lips together in another kiss, lapping against Spot’s mouth while his hand slowly moved up and down Spot’s length, but his eagerness sped its movements very quickly.

Spot let his eyes close and gasped sharply when Race suddenly tugged on his hair for his head to lean back. “I-I..” Spot panted, shivering when he felt a sucking sensation on his neck. The effects of the alcohol were making Spot’s brain a little fuzzier, so his ability to speak was reduced to, “That’s good, so good…” Race shushed Spot quickly and sped his hand up further, tugging Spot’s charcoal curls and making Spot gasp out and roll upwards in time with Race’s hand.

Race, in response, pulled his hand away but kept sucking on his neck. “I don’t need ya finishin’ so early~” he cooed softly in a faux whine. “We ain’t even gettin’ started, Spottie.” Giving a soft giggle, Race kicked off his own lower half clothing and straddled Spot’s lap - Spot had to hold onto Race to make sure the boy didn’t fall off. But the next thing Spot knew, Race had unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his bare torso and was bouncing on his cock like there were no other option. During the intense riding, Spot couldn’t help but realize how beautiful Race was; Race’s eyes were half-lidded and hazy with alcohol-induced lust, his hips rolled beautifully and desperately against Spot. Race’s hands were tugging away at Spot’s hair and just the most _beautiful_ noises escaped his pretty pink lips. “Spot, Spottie, oh Spot, _fuck_ me! Fuck me right there!” _Talk about being quiet,_ Spot rolled his eyes. But Spot couldn’t give two shits, really. He leaned down to start sucking dark purple marks into Race, much to the taller boy’s delight. “Spottie!” the boy cried.

Spot’s hips bucked up with Race’s movements faster and faster, he gripped hard to Race’s waist and groaned. “Oh f-fuck..Race…Race, oh, Racer, I-I think I’m- fuck, I…”

“Wait just a li’l bit, Spottie,” Race moaned into his ear. “I’m almost there, oh I-I’m- please, pleaseplease- _oh!-!_ ” Race’s orgasm was long and strong, his loud moan ringing through the bathroom. It sent Spot over the edge, as Race’s eyes rolled back upon feeling the shorter boy fill him up. “Oh, ye’h, Spottie,” he cooed in his ear. “You’re so good to me…atta Spottie. You’s so good…” He leaned against Spot and continued to mumble nonsense, getting quieter and closing his eyes.

“Race, don’t fall asleep on me.”

Too late. Spot didn’t really care, though. He sort of liked how cuddly Race could get after sex.


	4. Thrill Of First Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morris Delancey wakes up in a cold sweat upon realization he loves a newsie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suggested by patrickfinchcortes: "Minch 49"  
> 49: "I don't wanna screw this up."

Morris shot up in bed in a cold sweat with a sharp yelp, panting and huffing heavily and gripping to the sheets. He pushed his brown hair back that stuck to his forehead from light sweat and tried to settle his beating heart.

“Morris?” The sleepy voice of his younger brother, Oscar, soon filled the room, as well as a soft, warm light coming from a candle. “Morris, what’appened?”

“N…Nothin’.” Morris shook his head, even though Oscar clearly wasn’t buying it. “Go back to sleep, you got wo’y’k tomorrow.”

Oscar nervously bit his lip and set the candle down on the nightstand, sitting down next to him. “You have a nightmare or somethin’?”

“I wouldn’t…I-I shouldn’t call it that.”

Really, Morris was awoken by his dreams of Finch. Finch Cortes - the tall, English newsie with curly brown hair that carried a slingshot everywhere he went and made Morris feel different things he’s never felt before. His dreams were just simple; mere everyday occurrences with him and Finch. Finch acting flirty when collecting his papers, getting flirty with him after work, they were almost about to kiss had Morris not freaked out enough to wake up.

“What happened, Morris?”

Morris took a deep breath and fidgeted with his hands. He’s never opened up to his younger brother like this, and his heart began to pound just thinking about the thoughts that ran a million miles an hour. Oscar seemed patient enough, but there was that little voice in Morris’s head that was screaming it was a bad idea. But then Morris couldn’t shut up.

“I-I like girls,” Morris started. “T-That’s simple. It should just stay like that. But no, no it can’t be like that. Even if I still like girls, I…I…” Morris was almost choking on his words. “I-I like a boy. I really, _really_ like a boy. H-He makes me feel all these gross mushy feelings and I wanna..I-I wanna go on dates with him and love him, but I don’know _how_ and I just- I just….”

Oscar blinked, seeming have no reaction. “I don’t really see a problem.” Morris was well aware of Oscar’s infatuation for the bright, optimistic newsie named Jojo, so naturally Oscar would be okay with it. “Whodo ya like?”

“Finch, okay?” Morris snapped. “I-I like the slingshot kid, and I know I shouldn’t like a newsie because Wiesel would freak out or somethin’ but I just…I do.”

Oscar’s eyes widened but he gently drifted a hand across his older brother’s shoulder, offering a hug. Sighing in defeat, Morris opened his arms and let Oscar hold him tight. “It’s okay, Morris.” Oscar knew Morris would freak out further if he went into detail, so he simply - carefully - smoothed down Morris’s messy, brown hair and hugged him. “It’s gonna be okay in the end.”

“What if Wiesel finds out, and- and what if he freaks out and leaves? Just like Ma and Dad did? W-What if he-”

“Stop.” Oscar spoke gently and gave Morris a soft squeeze. If Morris went on about their parents, it was over for the both of them. “It’s all gonna be okay, Morris; I’m here for ya.”

——

“Fifty papes for Finch.”

The name of the newsie struck both smitten and fearful feelings into Morris’s heart as he watched Oscar hand the papers to the taller newsie. When the newsie and Delancey brother made eye contact, Finch didn’t hesitate to make his way over, and Morris knew that their upcoming conversation was inevitable.

“Mornin, Morris~” Finch let out smooth purrs and stood next to Morris. God, Finch’s eyes were so perfect and beautiful and sparkly. It made Morris sick to his stomach.

“Mornin’.”

Finch stood next to Morris and fiddled with his slingshot, “How’re ya this mornin’?” He was starting to pick up on the Manhattan accent the other boys had, but that posh, English accent was there that was just too sweet. “You get lotsa sleep?”

“Ye’h.” A small pause before Morris remembered, “Wha’bout you?”

Finch couldn’t help a small smile, obviously showing he was proud of the Delancey. “I slept pretty good.” He answered. “You sure you slept okay? You’re lookin’ a little off.”

“Ye’h, it’s alright.”

“Morris, hey,” Finch gently tapped Morris’s arm so they’d be making eye contact. “You know you can talk t’me, right? Somethin’ botherin’ you?”

“No. No, n-not really.”

“You wanna talk?” Finch spoke calmly and raised an eyebrow when Morris led him to a more secluded spot. “What’s wrong?”

“Um..” Morris gulped. “I don’know how to say it, I..”

“Take your time.”

“You..know I like girls? And- And everyone knows I like girls and, and you know I like girls, and-”

“You tryin’ to tell me you’re gay?” Finch asked. Something sparked in his eyes, Morris couldn’t tell. “No Manhattan newsie is straight, it’s okay–”

“No, I just like you!” Silence swept the both of them. Morris felt panic make his heart pump and he tried to back away. “No, no, nonono, I didn’t mean to– I wasn’t– I don’t like– I’m not–”

“Just tell me what you mean.” Finch stopped Morris, hands on his shoulders. “Don’t lie to me, don’t hold back. What’s goin’ on?”

Morris sighed. “I-I like you, Finch. You’re the first boy - or really, the first kid - I ever… _felt_ for. And it freaks me out. I-I know I ain’t so romantic or aware of how to just be normal, but when I suddenly feel weird, fluttery bullshit in my stomach when we stare for too long, or when you touch my hand when you get ya pape’s, I don’t want it to stop. I don’t want any of it to stop. I wanna take you out on dates and love you and hold you and show how much I really care but I just don’t know _how_. And I know you prob’ly don’t like me back so this is all pointless, but–”

Morris’s train of thought evaporated into the air when Finch gently kissed his cheek, petting his other cheek. A few beats of silence passed, Morris allowing Finch to be this close. He’s even felt uncomfortable hugging his own brother, let alone someone kissing him. “Morris,” Finch said. “I don’care whether you know everything in the book of romance, or if you can’t even look someone in the eye. I still love ya, okay? And I’m gonna be there with ya, I’ll help you understand how to talk to other people and show you everythin’ there is to know about romance.” He kept petting Morris’s cheek with one hand, gently lacing their fingers with the other hand. 

“I just…I don’t wanna screw this up.” Morris almost choked up as he looked down. “It’s what I always do.”

Finch tilted Morris’s chin back up to gaze into his blue eyes again - one eye had a dash of brown, and it was beautiful. “This is a start, you’re already doin’ so good.”

For the first time, probably in history, Morris Delancey smiled. “You mean it?”

Finch grinned and stepped closer, “Bet my slingshot on it.”

And when they kissed for real, Morris didn’t feel nauseous this time.


	5. Romeo and...Elmer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romeo has a unique way of selling papers, but he never knew it was gonna land him in a true dilemma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suggested by patrickfinchcortes: "Rolmer 39"  
> 39: "I can't keep kissing strangers and pretending they're you."

Romeo was flirty.

That was Romeo’s whole character, his whole shtick to sell papers - hell, Romeo was his nickname for his selling tactic. He charmed and wooed anyone he saw into buying his papers, whether kissing the back of their hands or complimenting their eyes, thanks to the help of Racetrack Higgins - his self-proclaimed mentor. It worked pretty well, Romeo shmoozing a pretty young lady or a well-dressed gentleman into snatching the paper from his hand and handing him a few coins. It certainly made Race happy, and it made Romeo happy that his teacher was proud. But lately, Romeo’s flirting had been a little off, and it got him less papes sold because of one newsie in particular.

Elmer was the “particular newsie.” The way Elmer’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, the adorable tooth gap in said smile that made Romeo want to scream, the way his fluffy brown hair poked and swooped out of his hat, the way Elmer was always so laid-back and simply put up with everything, everything about Elmer Kasprzak made Romeo swoon. And Romeo hated himself for that. He didn’t want to admit he was gay. Not that he thought it was wrong, it was just… _weird_ for him to like boys. Romeo Montague was straight, so this Romeo was straight. He had to be, right? He may have never had actual luck with ladies, but that didn’t mean he was gay, he just had to forget about the boy he kept thinking about. But Elmer, oh, _Elmer…_

“Good afternoon, Miss Beautiful,” Romeo cooed, flashing a charming smile at a well-dressed lady walking by. “May I offer you the latest in today’s news, my dear?”

“Hm?” The woman looked to the short boy and shook her head. “Oh, no thank you.”

Romeo bit his lip and stepped closer to her, puffing his chest out in an attempt to look tougher. “I gotta say, your eyes are really makin’ me stumble here,” he chuckled. “So blue, they’re matchin’ them beautiful crystals around your neck. Won’t such a pretty-eyed lady like you spare a guy like me a few pennies for a pape?”

The woman blushed and looked around. “Oh dear, um…” she reached into her coin purse. “I may have something.”

“Thank you, miss,” Romeo cooed as she handed him two pennies, only for him to gently take her hand and press his lips to the back of it before handing her the paper. “Have a lovely evening.”

The woman chuckled. “You too, be safe tonight.”

Romeo winked at her while she walked away, having to hold back jumping from joy. It actually worked this time! Just then, Romeo saw a young gentleman roaming the streets and naturally he walked over. “Evenin’, miste’h~” he purred, unaware of what he was actually doing. “Care to buy a pape, one handsome boy to anothe’h?”

The gentleman raised an eyebrow, “Pardon?”

Normally, with a gentleman, Romeo would try a more casual, yet charming approach. He would compliment their suit or simply be polite. Not this time, though. This time, Romeo wasn’t thinking. “Mmhm, I’m talkin’ to you, sir,” purred the short boy. “You’re lookin’ so fancy in your suit and tie. I know a very important man like you’s pro’lly got somewhere to be, but couldn’t you be so kind to spot me a penny or two?” He reached up to adjust the man’s tie and grabbed his hand to kiss the knuckle. He imagined the gentleman was Elmer, like he did with every folk. The gentleman had brown eyes and brown hair, even a few freckles, just like Elmer.

The gentleman didn’t like that. He suddenly pushed Romeo away, for him to fall and scatter his other remaining papers. “What has gotten into you?” He scoffed. “I never thought you would have the audacity to act so impudent, but I guess I thought wrong.”

Only when he walked away was when Romeo realized he fucked up. Romeo stood up and tried to walk after him, only for the gentleman to ignore him. Giving up, Romeo knelt down to collect his papers and pushed down the urge to cry. _Stupid Romeo,_ he thought. _Stupid not liking girls, stupid flirting, just plain stupid._ While collecting papers, Romeo felt a hand against his own.

“Need some help?” A kind, laid back voice spoke up.

Elmer. The best yet last person Romeo needed to see. “Elme’h?” Romeo quickly kneeled up to face the brown-haired, brown-eyed newsie. “Whaddare you doin’ ‘ere?”

“I was gonna swing by and get’cha,” Elmer chuckled. “Maybe you wanted to walk to the diner with me.” Before Romeo could scream, Elmer noticed the catastrophe before them and started scooping up papers. “I can see you got a little issue. What’appened?”

Romeo gave a nervous chuckle and hurriedly picked up his papers. “Just some guy gave me bit of a hard time. Ain’t no biggie.”

Elmer scoffed, “Whad’ya do? You flirt wit’im or somethin’?”

“No!” Romeo jumped up, scowling at Elmer. Elmer may have been shorter than the others, but Elmer made Romeo feel like the smallest person in the world. “No, no, I-I ain’t like that! What’re you on about?”

“Romeo-“

“I-I mean, not that it‘s wrong to be like that-”

“Romeo-“

“But just ‘cause I’m charmin’ folks left and right don’t mean I swing for the othe’h team! I just- I like girls, okay? I ain’t smoochin’ boys.”

“I was kidding, Ro.”

“I knew that.”

Elmer got a little more serious as the two began to walk together. “Hey, y’know I’m just kidding when I talk ‘bout that, right? I don’t mean to make fun’o’ya or whateve’h.”

Romeo quickly shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I mean- I-I ain’t gay but, don’t hurt to just joke around once in a while.”

“You’re always so defensive about it, you might as well be.” Elmer giggled.

Romeo grew more anxious upon the silence that followed. The mere thought of how he could like boys made Romeo sick to his stomach, and Elmer being so close to him like this… Romeo wasn’t thinking when he suddenly grabbed Elmer’s wrist and led him to an alley, but the look of confused concern in Elmer’s eyes reassured Romeo there was no going back, and he was truly fucked.

“What’s wrong?” Elmer had asked, standing close to him.

“U-Uh, I- Elmer, I, uhm…” Romeo started crying. He didn’t expect to start crying, or want to start crying, but he was soon sobbing with Elmer rubbing his back and soothing him.

“Hey, hey,” Elmer said calmly. “You’re alright, it’s cool. I’ve gotcha, RoRo. You can tell me anything.”

“I-I don’know how to say it, or- or you’re gonna freak out, or..” Romeo tried to wipe his eyes and hiccuped quietly.

“Just say what’s on your mind.”

“I-I..Elmer, I.”

“Romeo, it’s fine.” Elmer chuckled quietly. “You’re okay. No matter what‘cha say, you’re still my best friend and-” Elmer’s words were jumbled when Romeo suddenly kissed his cheek, still sniffling. “I-I…” Elmer trailed off. “I don’t get it. Y-You said-”

“I was lyin’,” Romeo choked out. “A-All that time I was lyin’. Elmer, I don’t wanna keep kissin’ strangers and pretendin’ they’re you, I-I can’t. I’ve liked ya for a year, and- and I know you don’t like me back, but-”

Elmer suddenly wrapped his arms around Romeo and hugged him tightly. Romeo opened his mouth to protest, but Elmer hushed him and pet through his hair. “Ro, you got no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ for you to say that.”

“Really?” Romeo murmured quietly.

“For sure.” Elmer planted a kiss on Romeo’s forehead and wiped his eyes, “C’mon, Ro, you’re killin’ me here, stop cryin’.”

Romeo wasn’t sniffling anymore. As he smiled and took Elmer’s hand, he grinned up at Elmer and squeezed his hand. “We should get to the diner.”

“Let’s go.”

Romeo didn’t kiss Elmer for real that time, although he should have, but he knew it would be okay. He knew it would take time. But he knew Elmer would be there through and through, and he loved Elmer even more for that.


	6. Bite Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An argument between Morris Delancey and Finch Cortes goes down a different path than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suggested by patrickfinchcortes: "Minch 17/18"  
> 17 + 18: "Bite me." "If you insist."

“Bite me.”

The words that left Finch’s lips in a frustrated huff sent a different kind of spark through Morris Delancey than expected. It was a warm summer’s evening, naturally everyone was irritable from the heat, and Morris had been waiting a little too long for Finch to walk with him to the diner. “About time,” Morris had said while they began walking. “I was ‘bout to die in the heat from you taking so long.”

Finch rolled his eyes, “Pipe down, I’ve been through worse heat.”

“Ye’h, you’ve been through worse heat. I didn’t plan on waiting all night in sixty degree weathe’h ‘cause you decided to take one’a your ‘shortcuts’.”  
“Like you got other plans tonight.”

“’cause arrivin’ home early and _not_ worryin’ my brother to death is considered ‘other plans’.”

“Oh, bite me.”

That was pretty much the final straw. Morris had grabbed Finch by his wrist and dragged him towards an alleyway. The two-word insult made Morris stumble a little in his tracks before he dragged Finch away. He now had Finch against the wall of an alleyway, their faces close and breathing quietly against each other’s lips. “So you’re wantin’ me to bite you, huh?” Morris gave Finch’s bottom lip a few nips just to tease. “If you insist.”

Finch’s eyes widened at the sudden serious mood that was brought upon the two of them, but he didn’t buy it at first. “Ooh, I’m terrified~.” Finch cooed in a teasing manner, looping his arms around Morris’s neck and fiddling with his slingshot. “You actually gonna bite me, hunny~?” He wrapped a leg around Morris’s waist to keep their bodies together and swiveled his hips. “I know I musta got on your nerves real bad, but you’s thinkin’ this is the best way to shut me up?”

Morris cut Finch off by kissing him. The kiss was quick but deep, and it hitched Finch’s breath as a dusty rose color spread across his cheekbones. Morris dove back in for another kiss, and then another, and then another. One by one, the kisses became deeper and longer. Morris kissed the corner of Finch’s mouth and gasped sharply when Finch, all of a sudden, pulled Morris’s head back to bite hard at a good spot on his neck. “Shit!” The breathy moan slipped out of the Delancey’s lips and he glared darkly at Finch. “You little- …” he trailed off into another moan when Finch kept biting and nipping at his neck.

Finch withheld a snicker and started fumbling with Morris’s tie until it was just draping from his shirt collar, in which he tossed it to the ground and started unbuttoning his shirt to gain more access. “And here I’m thinkin’ you were gonna be the one bitin’ me all over,” cooed Finch, teasing once again as he slowly traced over the markings with his lips and tongue. “Guess you just can’t resist me.” Finch suddenly gave a sharp gasp when Morris pinned his wrists to his chest and pushed Finch against the wall. Finch couldn’t help to let his head roll back when Morris placed a deep, warm kiss below his jawline and jolted at a sudden bite Morris left on the crook. “C-C’mon, Morris, babe,” Finch giggled breathily, despite melting fast. “That all you can do?” Morris wasn’t buying it, and Finch _knew_ Morris wasn’t buying it. Morris kept nibbling and biting, latching onto a good spot to suck, in which Finch couldn’t help the whines that left his perfect lips.

Then, Morris pulled away. He smirked with a final kiss on Finch’s lips upon glancing down at Finch’s lower area and rebuttoned his shirt. "H-Huh…?” Finch panted, out of breath and stood upright. “Morris, I- I don’understand..”

Morris kissed Finch’s cheek after fixing his tie and taking his hand. “The fellas are gonna be waitin’ for us at the diner.”

“But..” Finch gave a soft whine. “Morris, I- please, I-I can’t- I need to-”

“Hey, I didn’t say you weren’t gettin’ nothin’,” Morris winked and took his hand, leading the way. “You just gotta be patient. Now c’mon, we don’t want the others worryin’ ‘bout us.”


	7. Blood, Sweat, and Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morris usually isn't one to abide by the law. But just when he thinks they've got him for good, a slingshot-scoping newsie comes to his rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: theres blood n violence and all that jazz
> 
> suggested by patrickfinchcortes: "Minch 2/3"  
> 2 + 3: "Please don't cry. I can't stand to see you cry." "Stay with me."

Morris Delancey shoved off a newsie that lunged at him and snarled as he watched other newsies gang up on him and his brother, Oscar. He uppercutted one newsie, another received a slap, another got knocked right in the nose. But the familiar sound of a whistle made Morris’s heart stop, as well as many other’s. The bulls had been called, but they meant business. They beat newsies mercilessly and tried to arrest many - he even saw one newsie be dragged away. Morris tried to get out by cue of Oscar when he felt a hand grab his shoulder that wasn’t his little brother. “Osca’h!” Morris shouted as he felt himself be dragged away, knowing exactly who it was without even having to look back. Oscar tried to run after him, but Morris shook his head, “Osca’h, run! Don’t look back!” The Delancey brothers were well known for being thugs, always causing fights or stirring up trouble, but they always escaped the bulls. But this time, Morris knew he was in trouble.

Morris struggled to run from the bull’s release and snarled as the officer huffed, “Time you’re finally put where you belong. We’ll get your brother too, so at least you will be togethe’h in the refuge.” He spoke in a mockingly kind voice.

“You ain’t gonna get him,” Morris growled and propelled his foot back into the bull’s shin. “Not for the life of ya will you eve’h catch him; he’s a faster runne’h than you think.” He suddenly let out a shout of pain when the bull delivered a swift, strong punch to his nose, another one to his eye. Morris reached to cover his face before the bull brought his baton down on Morris, making the Delancey fall to the ground and groan. “You got five seconds to get the fuck off me befo’h’e I-”

“What?” The bull sneered, delivering a kick to Morris’s shin. “Your brother gonna come save ya? He ain’t here no more. And I don’t see no one else here who gives a damn ‘bout you.”

Morris bit his lip hard - a mistake, considering it was busted - and attempted to sit up, only to be beaten down again. Morris braced himself for a stronger impact before the bull paused. He let out a grunt of pain and whirled his head around and snarled at a newsie standing on a higher platform. Upon closer inspection, the newsie was… “Finch?” Morris weakly whispered.

Finch Cortes, Morris's boyfriend, stood on the higher platform, shooting bottle-caps from his slingshot right to the bull’s face. The bull snarled, opening his mouth to speak before grunting again. Finch snarled and glared at the officer until the officer ran, “Ye’h, you bette’h run!” Finch shouted before he jumped down and ran to Morris. “C’mon.” He hooked his arm under Morris to help him up, running as fast as he could until they were at least secluded from the fight. “Morris…” Finch panted. He tried to cup Morris’s cheek, only for the Delancey to flinch and push his hand away. “Hey, hey,” he said. “It’s just me, babe. I ain’t gonna hurt’cha. C’mon, I’ll take you back to the lodgin’ house.”

“I don’t need your help.” Morris muttered, but winced as he limped when trying to walk.

Finch wrapped his arm around Morris and sighed when he felt Morris melt against him. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll help you out.” Morris was quiet the rest of the journey until Finch opened the door to the empty lodging house. He slowly led Morris inside the house and sat him down on a bed. “Davey’s got a first aid kid, he was prepared in case somethin’ like this would happen.”

When Morris got a closer look of Finch, he gasped, “Finch, you’re…”

“I know.” Finch had his own share of bruises. “You shoulda seen the othe’h guys, though.” He said as he gently swiped a cloth across Morris’s face to stop bleeding, pressing it against his nose. He rested a hand on Morris’s chest and his eyes saddened at the pounding heartbeat. “Mo, you gotta calm down,” he whispered gently. “Ain’t no bulls here anymore.”

“No, no, I..” Morris bit his lip and winced at the pain that shot through him, only to be hushed by Finch. “I ain’t worried ‘bout me.” He said quietly when Finch placed bandages on scratches and gently massaged the bruises to soothe them. “Don’t worry.”

“Morris, I _hav’ta_ worry ‘bout’cha.” Finch slowly pet Morris’s cheeks. “You was gettin’ beaten by a bull.”

“I know.”

“And there’s nobody else here but you and me. I’ll be right here, always, okay?”

“I know.”

“Just talk to me, Morris, please.” Finch spoke calmly and clearly, so Morris could understand him. Since their relationship was still new, Finch was still helping Morris learn how to express his feelings clearly. “Were you scared…?”

Morris stood up from the bed, wincing at the pain shooting through his body. “No, no, Finch,” he felt his throat tighten and his heart sink, his voice sounding distant. “T-Thank you, but…I gotta go. Osca’h’s gonna be lookin’ for me, and I gotta make sure he’s safe.”

Finch stood up quickly and grabbed Morris’s hand, “Morris, please-”

“I’m fine, Finch,” Morris pulled his hand away. “Really. Just ‘cause I got a few punches in don’t mean I need therapy.”

“Morris, stay wit’me.” Finch walked after Morris and wrapped his arms around the Delancey brother from behind, pulling him back. “Please. I ain’t just doin’ this for you; I need you here, I’m scared outta my wits. I can’t let eithe’h of us go through it alone. Please, just, sit down ‘n talk to me. No one else is here. _Please._ ”

Morris let Finch pull him back onto the bed and trembled slightly. “Finch,” he took a deep breath and suddenly wrapped his arms tight around his love. “I was scared outta my life. I was scared of what if they found Osca’h, or what if they got you, or what if I wasn’t gonna make it, or-” Morris suddenly let out a hiccup and broke down, hugging Finch tighter and letting his boyfriend hush him and rub smooth circles into his back.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Finch hushed, resting his face against Morris’s chest. “Oh, babe, please don’t cry. I can’t stand seein’ ya cry. Just focus on me, Morris…focus on me.”

Morris sniffled as he ran his hand through Finch’s hair, holding him tight to his chest. “I…I, uh…” he choked on his words slightly before kissing his forehead. “I love ya, Finch…I’m glad you’re safe. R-Really.”

Finch smiled and met their lips together in a careful kiss. “I love ya too, Morris. I love you so much.”

And then, Morris gave a laugh through his tears and smiled upon looking into Finch’s eyes.


End file.
